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October 25, 2016 / douglasnyback


Autumn has claws.
It’s not winter on her wind,
no, no,
she’s a knickerbocker,
cutting where you begged,
with heartache for all.

Wrap the sweater, why don’t you?
Tight under your chin,
for the world is your bed, tuck yourself in.
Close your eyes and dream of Virgil, as a romantic,
exclaiming, “If over the gates of Hell it says
‘Abandon all hope, ye who enter here’
then over the gates of love
it must surely say
to abandon all reason.”

For this is the season,
and Autumn has claws,
winter’s to spring
and summer’s to fall.



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